


great things, space kings

by Anonymous



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Consensual Infidelity, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Future Fic, Pegging, Post-Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 12:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18604522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Carol decides, though she barely knows the kid, that she likes Peter best when he’s begging for her.





	great things, space kings

**Author's Note:**

> literally any two characters: interact  
> me: oh fuck yeah it's time for some DYNAMICS WORK
> 
> pretty sure that this doesn't hit any triggers, as the polyamory is consensual and stated as such. peter is over eighteen in this, what with the gap in endgame and everything. 
> 
> there shouldn't be any MAJOR spoilers here, but still, lmk if i missed anything. title is from "sidney poitier" by tyler cole. unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own. i'll probably fix it when i'm more awake
> 
> enjoy!

This is not where Carol thought her relationship with Peter Parker would end up three months after they met.

She can’t particularly say that she minds. 

Really, she should've expected it. His wide-eyed awe from her just standing over him, offering to help out like any normal super-teammate, was more than a good omen.

(Calling her strap-on harness “wicked” in an incredibly excited voice also earned him a spot on her shortlist.)

Peter's usually so chatty, so sincere with his feelings. Now, though, on all fours in front of her, he barely has the breath to form words as Carol starts pressing into him, slow and tedious.

“Sweet,” Carol says, smiles despite herself as his mouth falls open when she rocks her hips forward. God, she wishes she could feel him around her. “You’re a sweetheart.”

Peter looks back at her, pleading. She strokes a hand down his back, sending little sparks across his skin to make him shiver. The orange energy dissipates quickly with a soft hush, barely indistinguishable from the wind through the curtains. Peter drops his head against the pillow and whines.

He grabs her wrist, just the signal she needed. She gives him a second to adjust to the feeling of her filling him up. His senses must be on overdrive. Poor thing.

“She – “ Peter starts, shuddering as Carol leans over him to kiss the back of his neck, shifting her dick inside of him. “She just lets you do this?”

“My girlfriend has a small kingdom to take care of. A girl’s got to get it when she can.” Carol chuckles under her breath. Peter stares at her, still uncertain. “Plus,” she tacks on, “it’s not like Valkyrie doesn’t have a bit of a soft spot for you.” 

Carol pulls out minutely, pushes back into him. He exhales, eyes bright. “Really?”

“Baby boy, you’d have to be blind not to see it,” Carol says. The corner of her mouth is turned up in a smile. 

“Oh,” Peter says dumbly, and then Carol’s pushing his head down into the pillows and fucking him with deep, long strokes until she hits a rhythm that has his fingers trembling where he’s still clinging to the muscle of her hip. 

He’s so eager. Up for anything, this kid. His hair sticks to his forehead in the New York summer heat, breeze filtering through the window of Carol’s apartment.

(She wasn’t going to get a place and settle, but Scott and Bruce convinced her otherwise. It’s kind of nice to have everyone who gets her right next door.)

“You good?” Carol asks, but doesn’t stop. Peter nods. She smiles in response.

Carol lets herself grip the back of Peter's neck and sends another pulse of electricity over his shoulders. He moans softly, eyes squeezing shut. 

“Please,” Peter manages, pushing his ass back towards her hips. Carol decides, though she barely knows the kid, that she likes Peter best when he’s begging for her.

And like, she gets it. All of them need to get out of their heads sometimes, no matter how they go about doing it. Peter probably doesn’t have the capacity to just soar around the world a couple times at leisure, but Carol’s happy she can do this for him.

“C’mon,” he repeats. “I can take it, Carol.”

“Bold choice,” Carol quips, picking up her pace anyway. "Wasn’t aware that we were first-name basis.”

He squints one eye open back at her. “I can try that again, if it’ll make you go faster.”

“Hush,” she orders, and uses the second he pauses before retorting to flip him over, fold one of his legs towards his chest. Peter stares up at her, eyes wide. That’s more like it. 

She smooths a thumb over his ankle, soothing, as she guides the head of the dildo back into his body, bottoming out easily. He sighs, the tension bleeding out of his body as he sinks into the mattress. 

With Peter on his back like this, Carol can see every change in his expression. It’s fascinating, how expressive he is, how every minute detail plays out over his face if she varies the pace of her strokes or drags her fingers along his stomach or his chest. He must be close, if the pink flush down his chest and cock is anything to go by. Peter turns his head, moaning softly as Carol slows down, turning it into a slow grind.

Shifting her weight to one arm is a bit tedious while keeping her pace, but it’s worth it for the way Peter kicks his heel against the small of her back when she traces the lines of his stomach, little sparks behind her. She runs her fingers up his shaft, not quite enough.

“Close,” Peter says, quiet. He sounds a little embarrassed. Carol doesn’t want him to be. “Can you–“

“More?” she asks. He nods. “Mmkay.”

It doesn’t take long for his breath to go short, hips meeting her thrusts as she strokes him lightly. “You look so good like this,” Carol whispers. She reaches to kiss over his collarbones, and he sighs against the touch. “Strong and pretty, all in one.”

“Thanks,” Peter answers. Carol grinds in deep, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and he goes tense, gasping when his orgasm catches him off-guard. Carol works him through it, fucking him gently, and stops, staying inside of him until he pushes her away.

When she slides the harness down and off her hips, he’s staring at her, considering. “Do you need me to help you out?”

“I’m good,” Carol answers honestly. Thankfully, he isn’t offended; just reaches to squeeze the ridge of her hip as she brings her free hand down to finish herself off. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Peter admits quietly, and Carol laughs, breathless. 

“I’m flattered,” she says, and closes her eyes. She can feel her orgasm building in her stomach, hot and sweet. Peter’s weight shifts on the bed, and then he’s kissing the solid planes of her abs, up each rib, and she hangs her head, body curling in on herself as she comes. 

Peter, because he’s too smart for his own good, just tangles her arms around Carol’s ribs, hugging her close. Carol hugs back, lets her heartbeat slow, relishes in the feeling of having someone's body so close to her own.

 

+

 

After they clean up, Peter’s more talkative, some of the tension lifted off his shoulders.

“You two do that to every boy you think is cute?” Peter asks, reaching for his undershirt and boxers. His hair is sticking up. It’s kind of adorable. 

Carol pulls her underwear back up, pausing to quirk an eyebrow at him. “Only the super ones,” she says. He grins, ducking his head down to laugh.

It’s true, though. She rarely gets involved with guys, rarely ever has, since Monica. Something about women, their softness, their quiet allure and steadfast strength, has always drawn Carol to them like a magnet. 

The power trip of fucking someone so good they can barely walk, though, and the satisfaction of fulfilling someone's needs as she unravels them? That has no gender. It’s fun to play, sometimes.

Peter’s humble, generous with himself, even as he curls up on top of her duvet. She files away the way he smooths his hair back and picks up his phone to check on his friends. For later, she reasons, imagining Valkyrie’s face when Carol tells her about it later. 

It’s refreshing to have a male partner who defers to her in a way that never feels forced or self-depreciating. It’ll make it fun, if Peter ever wants to play with both of them, let them _really_ overwhelm him.

Carol tugs her bralette over her head, grabs a t-shirt from her drawer. At the last second, she reaches for her phone, too; opens Snapchat.

She sends a photo of Peter curled up in her bed, already dozing, to Valkyrie. _Tuckered out,_ she captions it, then on second thought, sends another.  _You should be here to see, next time._

Valkyrie responds a moment later. It’s her face, against a sunset sky, hair blowing around her head. _I’d love that_ , reads her response, and Carol smiles before setting her phone on the nightstand and letting Peter catch her up on the latest happenings of the World Wide Web.


End file.
